


get busy living (or get busy dying)

by twoheadlights (fizzfic)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: (no one actually dies though!), Alternate Universe - Spy, Humour, M/M, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzfic/pseuds/twoheadlights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time it happens, Dan doesn’t even take notice. He eats a lot of cereal. Hell, he’s probably the reason Tesco’s has to order extra boxes of the stuff. He’ll eat dry cereal at three a.m. if he can’t sleep. So he doesn’t notice. A box of Frosties being emptied in four days. That’s fine. </p><p>or the one in which dan’s cereal disappears every fourth night, and philisnotdead(alsoaspywtf???) [taken from the <b> “Who wouldn’t be angry you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!” </b> prompt from <a href="http://phanwich.tumblr.com/post/121911022990/ridiculous-sentence-prompts">this list </a>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	get busy living (or get busy dying)

**Author's Note:**

> this wasn’t even supposed to be a fic i wanted to write a normal story about two guys named james and michael feat. best friend peter Oh Well
> 
> (you can read and reblog the fic on [ tumblr ](http://phanwich.tumblr.com/post/121926315255/get-busy-living-or-get-busy-dying) too!)

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Dan groans as he tosses the empty box of cereal into the trash. All he wanted to do was have a midnight snack along with his midnight movie. Apparently, that was too much to ask for.

“You know, I’m kind of doing you a favour by continuing to buy cereal!” He calls out to no one present. His neighbours are going to think he’s crazy. Oh, well. Also, he kind of needs cereal to survive, so. But the thief doesn’t need to know that.

-

“Okay, so let me get this straight.” PJ raises an eyebrow. “You have a cereal thief.”

“That could be a pun,” Dan replies, “but yes. Someone is coming to my house on multiple nights and eating my cereal.” Don’t get Dan wrong, he’s happy that at least the person isn’t taking anything else of value. In the grand scheme of things, cereal is nothing. But still. It’s expensive. He’s owed quite a lot by this other person.

“Have you considered it might be you sleep-walking?” PJ asks. Dan stares at him and he continues defensively, “It’s possible!”

“PJ,” Dan says, “if I ate that cereal in my sleep, I wouldn’t be alive right now because I will have choked on corn.”

“…okay fine. So what’re you going to do about it?”

Dan shrugs.

-

The first time it happens, Dan doesn’t even take notice. He eats a lot of cereal. Hell, he’s probably the reason Tesco’s has to order extra boxes of the stuff. He’ll eat dry cereal at three a.m. if he can’t sleep. So he doesn’t notice. A box of Frosties being emptied in four days. That’s fine.

But then it happens with a second box. And then a third. And a fourth. A whole month goes by, and now Dan is worried. He checks his weight to see if his unconscious eating of cereal has had any effect on it. Nope. A healthy 56 kgs. So what was it?

The creepy thing was,  _how_  was this person getting in? Dan, being the extremely paranoid person he is, makes sure his doors and windows are locked (thank God London is cold as in October, otherwise his flat would’ve had a strong resemblance to an active volcano).

He strongly considered it was a ghost. But do ghosts eat food? He decided  _not_ to Google that because then it would remain in his search history forever and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself because of that.

So when the first box of the month is thrown away, he’s done. Desperate times, desperate measures.

He sets up a trap. A long piece of string stretched from one end of the door frame to the other. And as he doesn’t want to have blood from the cereal thief’s teeth on his floor - and he’s not heartless enough to enjoy the pain they’ll have in their jaw - he places a pillow a little away on the kitchen floor, hoping he’s got the distance right. He also readies some blankets in the living room for himself since it’s closer to the kitchen than his room is

When he tells PJ, all he gets back is, “Okay, but you need to chill.” Dan likes to think he’s being reasonable.

-

Dan wakes up to a loud thud and a groan in the middle of the night. Internally, he’s dancing the Macarena but outside, he’s running to the kitchen at top speed (or at least, as fast as his sleeping legs will take him) to find….

Okay. Wow.

First, the thief obviously entered  _into_ the kitchen through the fire escape which Dan never knew wasn’t locked (so he was constantly at risk of being seriously robbed. Cool). Second, the thief also  _leaves_ the kitchen (to explore the house whilst munching on some nice Frosties, maybe?). He realizes this because said thief is now the floor, not the kitchen one, but the hallway. Thankfully, it’s carpeted so maybe the thief wasn’t very hurt.

It’s a man. That’s all Dan can assume from the short hair (although, who knows, right? It’s 2015).

“Shit.” Cereal Thief mutters as he rubs his nose. The box of Coco Pops (Dan decided to shake things up a bit) lies on the floor, unopened.

“Evening, stranger.” Dan says, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. He feels an unfamiliar glee - immediately being extinguished when he sees the culprit’s face.

“Hi.” Phil Lester replies sheepishly.

-

“I was right.” Dan says, mostly to himself as he stares outside the window.

“About what?” Phil asks, taking in a spoonful of cereal. “Oh man, it’s so good to finally have this with milk, you have  _no_ idea -” He stops when Dan turns to him and glares. “Sorry. Why were you right?”

“You’re a ghost.” Dan answers. “That’s the only explanation, seeing as you’re _dead_.” It’s true. Dan went to the funeral. Three years ago, his eyes welled up as the coffin of Phil Michael Lester, aged twenty five was put into the ground and buried.

Phil bites his lip. “Right. About that. See, the thing is, I faked my death.”

Dan laughs and there’s a bitter edge to it. “This better be a My Chemical Romance reference.”

Phil’s mouth curls into a ghost of a smile at that but immediately tenses. “No, I did. Look, there’s things you don’t know. I was…” He looks left and right, as if he thinks there’s someone else in the room. Dan rolls his eyes. This will be good. “I was a spy.”

“Cool.” Dan snorts. “Okay. You finish that cereal and then I’ll go to bed, wake up in about three hours, realize this is in fact a dream, and then maybe catch the actual thief.”

Phil sighs, clearly frustrated. “I knew I couldn’t have you finding out it was me. I’m being serious now. Don’t you remember how I ‘died’?”

He does. It was a wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time situation. There had been a shooting at an obscure museum with priceless things in Frankfurt. Phil was on a one-man road trip and been caught in between. Dan and Phil had been friends, really,  _really_  close friends. He was one of the first people called when Phil’s family found out. He was the one who comforted Phil’s mother. He even spoke at Phil’s funeral. And now…

“Okay,” Dan says after a two-minute silence. “Say I believe you. Say you  _are_ in fact a spy.” The word feels weird. Phil, clumsy beyond repair, couldn’t do multiplication to save his life,  _Phil_ , a spy? But Dan remembers that Phil was also good at secrets. He managed to keep mum about Dan’s sexuality when he came out to him. He knew an awful lot about locks. He was pretty stealthy when he needed to be. He could solve the murkiest riddles in a matter of seconds. He was adventurous too. Always off on a trip. He’d taken a gap year to travel when everyone his age went straight to university. Suddenly, the idea of Phil being a spy doesn’t seem so farfetched.

“Say…this isn’t actually a really fucking weird dream,” Dan continues. “Then you were involved in that shooting? You’re…”

“Working for the government.” Phil finishes. “You don’t need to know more, or else you’ll be at risk. Look, I’ll leave. I won’t bother you anymore. I never stay in a place longer than three months anyway.”

 _Always on the go_ , Dan thinks.  _Nothing’s changed, then_.

“You’ve been moving for three years?” He asks. Phil nods.

“Yup. I was quite far away before coming here.”

“Right.” His mind is whirring and filling up with questions. It’s been a wild night though, so he just says, “I need to sleep on this. Do you want a blanket?”

-

The initial shock of finding out one of his best friends was not dead and also a secret agent (a theme song played in his mind every time he thought about that) leaves the next morning. It’s almost normal to see Phil slumbering on his couch, peaceful. Like he’d come back from one of his adventures and crashed at his place instead of going home. Which to be honest, Dan admits, is kind of what happened.

Phil wakes up half an hour later, and looks well rested. Dan wonders where he slept when he was just sneaking around. He asks Phil now.

“Oh, here, there,” he replies. “Close by, where no one would know about me. For obvious reasons, of course.”

Oh, yeah. Phil’s death - along with about twenty others- was international news. Innocent bystanders caught in a crossfire.

“Do the um,  _people_  know you’re alive?” Dan asks tentatively, suddenly feeling like he’s being watched.

Phil shakes his head. “No. I’m one of their best agents, and I’m not bragging when I say that, mind you. They’ve said it. It would take a long time to find out.”

“Well, I mean, I caught you with a piece of string.” Dan says. “Not bragging though.”

Phil laughs, a proper laugh, the kind Dan used to hear all the time. He feels his heart flutter a little from the memory. “True,” Phil admits. “You could join the team.”

“Sorry about the stealing though,” he continues, suddenly looking genuinely guilty. “I probably owe you a lot of money.”

“It’s fine, oh my God,” Dan answers. “I mean, yeah I was kind of mad about it -”

“ _Mad_ is a strong word, don’t you think?”

“Why wouldn’t I be mad though?! You stole my cereal for a month and also pretended you were  _dead_ for three years!”

-

Dan insists Phil stay with him. He realizes how easy it could be for Phil to be recognized in the area, especially since he used to go there sometimes when he was ‘alive’. Mrs. Thompson might remember. Okay, she  _was_ about eighty nine years old, but you never know with old people. They’re cunning.

PJ asks him if he’s solved his thief problem and Dan tells him he has. Doesn’t elaborate though, much to his friend’s annoyance.

Some nights, Phil sleeps on the floor at the foot of Dan’s bed because they’ve stayed up too late talking about the last three years. And it’ll be three a.m. when Phil decides to get deep.

“So you know how your middle name is James?”

“Yes, Phil.”

“Why Jame _s_? Why is it plural? How many Jame?”

“Go to  _sleep_ , Phil.”

-

“You’re with someone.” PJ declares.

“What?” Dan doesn’t turn to look at him as he pays the cashier.

“You heard me. You’re buying a Jar For Two. You never buy that. Unless I come over. Which I’m not, and you haven’t offered yet. And you keep blowing everyone off. Like, we know you’re basically a house cat, but you’ve never this bad.”

“Suddenly everyone’s a secret agent,” Dan mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He chuckles. “And I’m not  _with_ anyone. It’s autumn. I get hungrier when it’s cold. Like a hamster.” Weak, but he was never a lying-through-his-teeth kind of guy. Apparently, that was more Phil-like.

“Whatever. You still need to get laid. That’s an excuse to get out, right? Hamsters get laid all year around, for sure.”

-

It’s been two weeks, and Dan’s more used to having another human in the house. He never did realize how much he missed Phil. He was truly the best friend he could’ve asked for.

Although, his cereal stealing still hadn’t stopped.

“PHIL!” Dan catches him one night at around one a.m.

“Oh c’mon,” Phil protests, after swallowing his mouthful of Krave. “I live here now, surely it’s okay!”

“It’s  _my_  cereal! Your box is right  _there_!”

Phil stops short. “I have my own box.”

Dan nods and walks past his flatmate to pick up the box, which, okay was a bit hidden but  _there,_  of Krave. “See? Yours.”

Phil looks a little sheepish. “I thought that was just extra, because you knew about me taking cereal. But I mean, this is nicer. Thanks, Dan. And sorry.”

He sounds so genuine, Dan feels a little lightheaded. That had been happening a lot lately. Every time Phil did anything mildly annoying, Dan would say something mean, and Phil would apologize and Dan would want to kiss his nose.

Whoa, no, wait. That was one time. Or three. Who knows.

Maybe he  _did_ need to get laid. Wow.

-

Phil was in his bed.

“I was cold.” He whispers after Dan calms himself down from the shock of having someone he definitely did  _not_  have sex with in his bed.

“Christ, Phil, you could’ve woke me up, then. Or turned the heat up. Or, or, _something_.”

“Sorry? Look, it doesn’t matter now. You’re sleepy, I’m sleepy. Scoot over.” Dan doesn’t retort this time; instead, he moves a little letting Phil be a bit more comfortable.

But now Dan’s fully awake and more aware of Phil than he’s ever been. Their legs were touching, almost tangled with each other. He could feel Phil’s breath on the back of his head, making him shudder. Wow.

Phil’s not a bad-looking guy. And the knowledge that he could actually fight kind of made him more attractive (let’s be real here). Dan wouldn’t mind going out with him, emotions and all, if he thought about it. But there was the whole  _only he knew Phil was actually alive_  deal. They wouldn’t be able to  _go out_. Do normal couple things. Besides, Phil probably doesn’t like him back.

He feels like a fucking high schooler with a crush, but to be fair…he has nothing to defend himself. It’s like he hasn’t been involved with anyone romantically for  _years_. And to be honest, before Phil ‘died’, he thought something was going to happen then too. But then Frankfurt and…yeah.

Oh, well.

-

Dan isn’t sure  _how_ it happened exactly, but one minute he was asking Phil what he wanted to order for dinner and the next he was under him on the floor, the taste of him claiming every thought in his head.

Phil pulls away, but their faces are still inches away from that. “Always wanted to do that.” He mutters, and now moves to Dan’s neck.

“ _Phil_ ,” Dan moans as he feels Phil’s tongue on the dip of his collarbone. He almost yelps when he feels Phil’s teeth graze his skin.

And so it goes. After that, they can’t keep their hands (and mouths) off each other. Phil’s fingers are always playing with Dan’s hair. Dan’s arms are always wrapped around Phil’s waist in the morning. They hang out at home: play video games, watch movies and TV shows, bake if they feel brave enough. It’s nice.

Dan feels kind of sad that he can’t tell PJ about Phil. But his friend does notice the marks on his neck, and smirks at him a lot (if he only knew about the ones on his thighs…). “At least you’re getting  _something_ ,” he says.

-

“I’ve decided.” Phil announces. “I’m going back to work.”

Dan tilts his head to one side. “Work? To…?”

“N.E.A.T. Yeah.” Dan fought back a smile. Phil had given him details about ‘work’. The first time he heard what the organization was called (or more specifically, what the acronym was) he laughed for ten minutes. Phil was not amused. Can’t tell you what the full form is, too risky. “I’m getting  _bored_.”

Dan feels a bit responsible for that. Phil probably had a pretty exciting life, sneaking around before Dan found him. Now, his paranoia stopped Phil from even leaving the house except the time Dan was sure he left for a few hours and returned in the early hours of morning.

“That’s great!” Dan replies enthusiastically. “You should do that, if that’s what you want. Definitely. Yeah.”

Phil grins. “You think? It’s just that, oh, I miss work so much. The thrill of it, and the high I get from running and lying and knowing secret information and -” He stops. “I’m going today.”

“Today?” Dan repeats, bewildered. It’s just hitting him that if Phil goes back to work, he’ll see him significantly less.

“Yes!” Phil’s eyes shine. “I mean, I better start living sometime right? Better sooner than later.”

“Yeah. Um.”

Phil notices the sudden deflation in Dan’s tone. “Is something wrong?”

Dan shakes his head. “No, I don’t know. It’s just that, you used to travel a lot, remember? And now I know why but then…it got pretty lonely when you weren’t around. I got used to it, but now I’m used to  _having_ you around. I don’t think I could get back not.”

Phil’s expression softens. He sits next to Dan and kisses his forehead. “Hey. I’ll be around. I’ll always be around. I mean, for all I know, the boss could screw me completely over for not reporting earlier and fire me. I’m like an overdue library book.” He frowns at the strange simile but continues, “Anyway. My point is. I will always have time for you. I know it didn’t seem like it  _before_ , but that was because I was still new. Constant tests being thrown at me to prove my worth, and after that, constant tests being thrown at me because I was a natural.”

He kisses Dan again, and now Dan knows that Phil really isn’t leaving. Not again. Never again.


End file.
